I Don't Care If Your Broken
by feathers15
Summary: Will he still love her if she is broken? The story of Annie Cresta's fight for survival through the games. Her fights, her fears and how she met Finnick Odair, told in detail.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! This is my first fan fiction so save shooting me till atleast the second chapter ^-^_

Disclaimer- I do not own the Hunger Games, it belongs to the amazing Suzanne Collins!  
However any character that is unfamiliar to the story is an OC that belongs to me.

_Enjoy!  
_

* * *

"Annie Cresta!"

_Oh God, please tell me I heard that wrong. Say you made a mistake, someone volunteer, just please. Don't say she just pulled my name from that bowl._

But she hasn't made a mistake, and I know it. Helga Aurum has pulled my name from the big, glass reaping bowl. Read my name into the microphone and it is now time for me to step forward and walk to the stage.

My legs feel like lead. Hands shaking by my side. It's like I have just been slapped in the face, worse in fact; like I have been punched in the stomach and winded. Because I don't seem to be getting enough oxygen into my lungs. I can hear mutters from around me, a sob or two, but it all seems so far away from me. It's like I have left my body and am looking down on myself.

My knee length, snow white dress swaying slightly in the wind. My battered leathered sandals. Hair in a bun holding up my wavy brown hair.

That's when her voice rings out again and a nudge from the girl next to me brings me back to life.

"Annie Cresta? Chop chop, haven't got _all_ day!"

I stare at the girl who just nudged me, Dellsy Blu, a girl in my year at school. My friend. Her eyes are filled with remorse, their blue glow glossy with tears, regret and sorrow.

"It's okay Dellsy..." I force from within me in a croaky voice, trying to hold back tears. I need to look strong, I need to not cry.

Unwillingly I step out of line and into sight of Helga, bringing her ridiculously gold wig and soft brown skin into view.

"Ahh! There you are, come on up!"

Peacekeepers are suddenly swarming all around me, four of them in their white uniforms. They are here to escort me up to the stage. Afraid I'll run away, fight maybe?

Since most of the peacekeepers are from the Capitol they don't know what it's like, the reapings. All they know is it's sport. One big game that they play a part in by delivering it's players to the Capitol and cart them around until finally they end up in the arena's and are all slaughtered. All but one.

I can feel myself shaking but merely clench my fists and raise my head up high, slowly dying inside.

Reaching the stage takes what feels like a hundred years, slow and daunting. With every step a cold chill runs through me till I have turned to ice. I look around as I reach the stage to see my guards leave me so I can clime the steps to the stage alone, up to the annoyingly cheerful Helga with her stupid gold hair and bright neon clothes. Up to the camera's that will show me across Panem and towards my first steps on the winding road to my death.

Slowly I feel my feet rising as I climb the first step, then another and another until finally I am on the stage. Helga, who is our district escort, has a large enthusiastic smile on her face.

_Stop smiling you stupid women, your sending innocent children to their deaths._

"Aren't you so proud?" She's brimming with joy, why is she so joyful? I simply stare at her blankly. Eyes unblinking and fists clenched.

I think she gets the message I am far from happy being on this stage in front of millions for she continues talking. Or she feels I'm so dumbstruck and over joyed I have no words. That's probably the more likely option.'And now for the boys names!"

I watch as Helga crosses the stage, her heels clipping as they do. Finally, she reaches the big glass ball containing all the names of the boys between the ages of 12 and 18 which reside in 4. I stare out on all of them. The small children with big glassy eyes afraid of their name being drawn, to the tall and most muscular men who have mastered hiding all emotion from their faces.

I watch as her slender hand dips into the dish and probes the paper with her fingertips. Finally I see her hand raise and a small piece of paper is held firmly in her thumb and index finger. Clipping back to the microphone she opens the paper and, in her annoying Capitol accent, reads the name scribed on it.

"Phinley Waning!"

A tall boy, after a second or two, steps out from an older group of boys. His in my school, the year above. 18 in a few months, this was his last year. He walks towards the stage, his untucked shirt blowing in the sea breeze along with his bleach blond hair. Skin darker than mine and eyes bright in the midday sun. He climbs the stairs and takes the position on the stage parallel to me.

"And our two tributes!" Helga claps her hands together frantically. A few claps arise from the crowd before quietly dying down. A thousand eyes are staring at me and I can feel my ears burning, this only ever happens when I am embarrassed. But it's not embarrassment, or the fact the whole of Panem are staring into me. It's fear, that these people are ready to watch me die a horribly, bloody death.

"Well, shake hands!" I turn and stare at Phinley, his gaze is sharp. I out stretch my hand and meet his, his finger nails dig in for a moment and a cold, hateful look consumes his face. Pain is flowing through my hand as he tightens his grip.

He releases my hand as quickly as he had taken it. I stare at him, as he does me.

"Happy Hunger Games!' Helga's voice arises, but I don't break my eyes contact with Phinley. 'And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

Before I know what is happening peacekeepers have converged on my position and are directing me into the justice building which stands behind me. I barely have time to catch a quick glance of my parents, red faced and holding back their tears before large oak doors take them away.

* * *

_Hoped you enjoyed it, i'll be updating every Tuesday around 7pm (British time)! And don't forget, review! :3_


	2. Chapter 2

_Second chapter, enjoy :)  
_

* * *

A glassy, distorted view of pure beauty, twisted and taken for granted for so many years.

_It's okay. It's okay... It's okay._

All of a sudden the door opens with a creak and I tear my eyes away from the glorious beach. My hand slipping off the glass leaving streaks. Puffy eyed and shaking standing in the door way are my parents.

"Two minutes." The peacekeepers voice is harsh and cut's like a knife. I have two minutes to say my goodbyes to my parents before I am slaughtered. To fit 17 years and how much I love the people who bought me to life in two minutes. I feel my weight be transferred from foot to foot, staring directly into my mother and fathers soft blue eyes, I am running towards them.

The only thought that consumes me is the question of how I have such different eyes. A deep green. How could my eyes be so dark and harsh, yet theirs be light and free?

"It's oka-' But my words fail me, all that comes from my mouth is a whimper and cry.

It's not okay. I will never see these two people I love most in the world again. And worse still, they will watch their only daughter be slaughtered and will not be able to do anything. '...Mum..."

Her arms encase me, her soft hands combing through my hair.

"Shh, honey... w-... we understand." Her voice is soft, soothing.

"We forgive you Annie."

But my fathers response only makes me chock harder, shudders wreck my body as I try to fight back the tears and red nose. They _forgive me_? My parents, the people who never wanted a child so this could never happen, forgive me. Oh yeah, I wanted to be a contestant. Ripped, hacked and torn limb from limb in intense pain and alone.

I push my mother away and stare into her eyes, then to my father. My brow is scrunched and I can feel myself pulling a ridiculous face. Anger and sorrow while at war with tears.

"You _forgive _me?"

"Yes, Annie, we do. We love you, of course we will." My fathers voice is cracking, loosing it's firmness.

"You forgive me!" I can feel my ribs shaking and hear the loud screech I let out.

"Annie?"

"I'll get home... I wont die there alone and weak. I'm not like you! Then you can forgive me!" My arms fly out to my sides, catching the small oak table and sending the vase flying and shattering against the wall.

Suddenly the doors are open again and the peacekeepers are back. Guns in hands. They must have heard me shouting.

_What I have done? My last words to my parents are shouts and screams._

Their faces are shocked as they stare at me. Before I know peacekeepers have converged on them, pulling them away.

"No!" I cry, "Stop! Wait, I'm sorry!" I lunge at my parents, but I feel hands around my waist. I am being held back. Stretching out my hand I try to grab my mother. The other hitting at the tall, muscular peacekeeper that is holding me in his arms.

"I love you, I'm sorry! Mum, dad!"

"Come back to us Annie!" My dad cries out.

Then they are gone. The door slams and I know I will never see them again. Weak little Annie Cresta against Panem's finest. I will never be able to say how sorry I am for shouting, for ruining their lives and breaking their hearts. Everything.

I pace. I'm sure the carpet is wearing down. Two peacekeeps emerge and take away the glass, probably thought I would try and slight my wrists with it. When they leave I pace some more around in circles.

Suddenly the door opens again and Dellsy enters. Her eyes are bright red and nose running. My words to her are a lot easier.

"Hey Dellsy."

"They almost stopped my coming in... thought you were rather unstable and...' I watch her eyes flicker to the water stain up the wall from where the vase smashed. 'Violent."

I feel myself laugh, soon she joins in. Her hand dives into her dress pocket and pulls out a paper bag before she can say anything further. Stepping forward she places the bag into my hands.

"What's this?"

"Cookies."

"Cookies?' I stare into the bag, disbelief fills me up at the sight of the sweet cream filled treats. Cookies cost an arm and a leg in 4, at least months of labour and trade. Well, for the poorer people of 4 at least. 'How could you afford them?"

"I ran around after the reaping collecting as much as I could. Their from everyone. The fishermen you made nets for, friends, people at school you've helped. I found the baker and she sold me them, it was last minute and I wasn't sure if I'd be here in time."

I breathe in suddenly fighting back tears, a whisper escapes my mouth.

"Thank you."

I hear Dellsy step towards me as I stare into the bag. Slowly I pull one out and hand it to her.

"For you. For being such a good friend to me."

We bite into the doughnuts, it's sweetness plaguing my tongue. I haven't had cookies in oh so long. We savour the taste for a few moments, then the peacekeepers are back far to soon, taking Dellsy away.

"Say thank you, to everyone. And Dellsy...' I see her eyes train on me, red and puffy. Her face no longer home to her usual glow and smile. 'Have a good life."

The car ride to the train station from the Justice Building is a short one. I have never been in a car before, and even though it is riding on flat land it seems to be bumpier than being on a boat. I'd rather be on a boat right now, bobbing soothingly up and down on the waves, the salty sea breeze making my hair dance. But I'm not. Who knows if I ever will again?

Glancing at a mirror which hangs from the ceiling of the car I notice my eyes are slightly puffy, reddened and dark from my earlier goodbyes. The reflection also reveals Phinley's face, as hard as stone. As untouched it was when he stepped up to the stage.

Slowly I feel the car coming to the stop and, at a glance out of the window, I see swarms of reporters with insect like cameras trained at the car. Phinley's cold mask will pay off here, where as my reddened eye's will only let me down. I will appear weak. Trying to compose myself as much as possible I take deep breaths, fists clenched, and I'm back to my first day at school. I was so nervous. Everyone had to stand up and state their name, age and an interesting fact about themselves.

_Hello. My name is Annie Cresta and I am five years old and my family can weave net's out of anything for a living._

Heart pounding I suddenly become aware of Helga's voice, chirping happily on about the Capitol and to smile at the cameras because the whole of Panem will be watching. What a great way to calm someone down, 'Don't worry only the whole of the world will be watching.'

The car door opens and after Helga I slowly slip out. Flashes like lightning come from all directions. _Okay Annie, calmly does it. don't show them your scared. _

Before I know what I am doing my hand is in the air and the crowds are screaming with glee. I'm waving. I'm actually waving at these malicious, powerful people. Who are as equally stupid. A dangerous combination.

Slowly I begin to lower my hand convinced my attempt at a fake affection and love towards these monsters is a stupid idea. But a hand grabs hold of my wrist softly, lifting it up higher into the air. At a glance to my side I notice a tall muscular man with bronze hair and the most amazing green eyes staring down at me. I'd know him from anywhere. Finnick Odair. District 4's last victor, winner of the 60th Hunger Games. The boy who trapped his victims in nets before finishing them off with a solid gold trident which his sponsors gave him. One of the youngest victors in history at only 14.

"Don't stop waving,' He whispers in my ear, his breath is warm against my neck, 'They love that kind of stuff."

I can feel my cheeks going red slightly at his touch and raise my hand higher. Waving out to the crowd and smiling as best I can. Looking to my left I can see a woman by Phinley. Mags, winner of one of the earliest games. Her silver hair is in a bun at the back to her head, her eyes reflecting the flashes from the camera. She is whispering to Phinley who lets a small, reluctant smile spread across his face.

With all the screams and grabbing hands I don't notice we are almost at the train, it's large chrome doors open like the jaws of a sea creature. The reporters and camera people are screaming for photographs and footage, so, for a few moments we stand by the train, smiling with joy and pride. (In my case so I don't burst into tears).

After a few minutes and so many flashes bright sparks of light seep into my vision it is time to enter the train. Taking in my final breath of fresh air, savouring the last smell and taste of 4 I board the train, paper bag still firmly clenched in my balled fist. The doors close mercifully behind us and a my breath is taken away at the speed the train starts moving at. I close my eyes, my head spinning, I did not want to be here.

A warm hand touches the back of my arm and reluctantly I open my eyes to see Finnick standing in front of me, a worried expression across his face, his huge sea green eyes staring into me.

"Annie?"

"How do you know my name?" My expression must look quite blank because he chuckles slightly, his lips curling into a smile as he does causing his eyes to twinkle like stars.

"Because I'm your mentor silly. Now, do you want to try walking? I know it takes your breath away at first but it'll wear off.' I shake my head and stare at him, my temporary fatigue has worn off leaving my surroundings easier to take in now. 'Phinley is being shown to his room. Would you like to see yours?"

"Okay... but first can I..?" I point to the window next to the train door and wander over to it, placing my free hand on the chilly glass. As I watch the sea and beaches, green grass and everything I ever knew reseeds until it is a mere speck. My home, shrinking into the distance.

I stand for a while until I can not see anything from 4 any more, I breath in the plain Capitol air and finally turn to Finnick, who has been waiting patient and understanding.

"I looked out there to, till it had sunk away."

"Yeah, but you had a chance of seeing it again."

A confused expression consumes Finnick's face as he speaks, "And you don't?"

"I'm not a killer..." I finally whisper, looking down at my feet. The tears have finally overflowed and are rolling down my cheeks. His arms are unexpected but warm, an embrace I once wished my parents would give me. Loving and full of genuine closeness, not awkward pushing away and holding of breath. Not from Finnick at least.

"I'm going to do my best to get you out of these games Annie Cresta, I promise... Now, let's show you to your room." He pushes me to arms distance and looks at me, smiling.

Something about his eyes are oh so familiar, and so full of emotion. Soft voice and a weak smile.

* * *

_Hope you liked it and review, review, review!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey, hope you enjoy as always- chapter 3!_

* * *

Both me and Phinley have been assigned dorms on the train, mine in next to his and a short stroll from the dining cart, which I had been instructed to be in in an hour and a half for dinner. I have been pacing my room for about ten minutes, it's quite small, but still bigger than my room back home. Finally I decide to undress and enter the bathroom attached onto my room in the train. All I want is to be home, sea breeze through my hair and laying on the warm beach sand. But I'm not home, no breeze or golden sand to fill the gaps in the fingers.

So now I stand, staring at a rather complicated looking control panel on the side of the shower wall. There are at least twenty chrome buttons staring at me. Each one as intimidating as the next, daring me to press it. I can feel myself knotting my brow together as I try to find any scene in these buttons.

Slowly I lift my hand and with my index finger press a button two rows in and three down. All of a sudden ice water sprays out of the left side of the shower, right into my exposed ribs. I feel a small yelp escape my mouth and, while in my shocked state, hit another button before I have time to think. This time a mint smelling soap accompanies the cold squirts.

"Stop, stop, stop!" I shout at the control panel. Hitting more buttons as I do. The water rapidly changes from scorching sudden blast with as much force as a shot arrow behind them to freezing cold showers making my spine shiver. I hear my curses leave my mouth in strange yelps of anger and shock as the water pelts my skin, scolding and painful .Every now and then an odd colour shampoo is released. Bubbles start to fill the small shower section, the smell of lemon or roses, water spurts and foam.

My eyes burn as some kind of conditioner is squirted into my face and into my eyes. Blinded and clumsy I feel myself loose my balance and stagger backwards.

Hitting the back of my foot on a small, hard step signifying the end of the entrance to the shower I loose my balance and twist to my front before crashing noisily to the floor, catching the side of my nose on what I think is the sink as I fall.

For a moment I loose all bearings and scene of where I am. All I know is a blinding pain is taking over and when I open my shampoo filled eyes everything is spinning. I can feel this mornings breakfast at the back of my throat and a sharp pain in my ears. Slowly I breath in and out finding a rhythm from the splutters and the world slowly comes back into focus.

I begin to feel the chilled titles under my naked body and the soft, almost unnoticed rumble from the train. In fact I'm pretty certain if you don't stop and listen very closely then you wont hear it. The engines soft purr.

The water in the shower is still running and reminds me vaguely of crashing waves. Slowly I push myself off the floor and with my uneasy hands pull myself up till I am standing upright and staring into the mirror that hangs above the wash basin. There is a bleeding, crescent shaped cut at the top of my nose which is slightly swollen.

_Oh isn't that great... first day with Capitol technology and I almost kill myself. _

Unnerved I dry myself off, afraid that I may trip and smash my back in because the towel may be another crazy Capitol invention and try to kill me. Across my body. Soft green bruises have come up where the water jets hit me with such force. I frown and watch my stupid facial expression in the mirror.

After a minute or two, with towel in hand, I shakily waddle back into the room and find some underwear. After a few more minutes while standing in my undergarments root through the draws and cupboards for some clothes, finally settling on a simple, skinny, black long sleeved top and a pair of linen white shorts.

As I stare at the clock I brush my hair through quickly and put my wet curls up in a French Plait. I still have twenty minutes before dinner, however after my recent argument with the shower I don't feel like being in a room by myself.

Slipping on my socks I trip over to the door and open it, stepping out into the corridor. Upon finding an attendee I ask for them to turn off my shower. A frown spreads across the face at the sight on my nose, but I just merely push it aside, not really keen on explaining being attacked by a shower to a Capitol attendee and before I know it I am sitting alone at a large, mahogany table in the middle of the dining cart.

The room, regardless of if it is only a train or not, is the most luxurious place I have ever seen. The carpets are richer than in the justice building, perfect lines and shaping to the walls and window frames. At the far side of the room a basket of breads from what looks like all the different districts sits, next to a variety of delicious looking cakes with mounds of cream and oddly coloured toppings. A case holding a variety of bottles is next to the table, what I can only imagine to be white liquor and alcohol sits inside.

Alcohol is a substance traded illegally in 4 and that many victors, such as Haymitch Abernathy- District 12's only surviving victor- likes to drink. A lot. Many years I have watched my television screen as he stumbles onto the stage, pissed out of his mind.

I can see tree's and mixes of green whooshing past outside the window. My fingers stroking the fine silver cutlery that covers the table already. I'm so entranced I don't notice when she wonders into the room and takes the chair opposite me.

"Nasty cut you have there... What happened?"

I look up, jumping slightly. Mags is sitting opposite me, a slightly steaming mug in hand. Her old eyes look concerned and my fingers find the cut across my nose, it stings slightly as I touch it.

"Shower...' I say shyly. A confused expression spreads across her face, asking for me to talk more, so I do. 'The showers are very hard to use, so many buttons."

"Ah."

"The mint soap decided to blind me and I tripped out of the shower and hit my nose." I prod the cut making me wince slightly. Mags laughs slightly, her eyes alight with kindness.

"Bet you thought the towels would kill you too.' I stare into her eyes, _How did she know? _She reads my mind. 'I did the exact same thing when I was reaped. However the towel really did attack me, a silly Capitol invention they were trying out. Now they have mats that dry you in seconds when you step on them."  
"Really?"

"Oh yeah, look for the button next to the mirrors in the bathroom." She blows her drink and takes a sip, before placing the mug down and picking up a paper which she must have bought with her to the table.

"Mmm, what smells so nice, dinner out already Mags?"

I watch as Finnick enters the room, staring at the table with a puzzled look on his face.

"No, it's Annie, the shower attacked her with smelly soaps."

"Another one? We have to do something about those showers!' Looking up from the table he winks at me, however upon sight of my cut he stops and frowns slightly. 'It really did attack you?" He sits down next to Mags, eyes hazy and cold.

I nod, _how stupid must I look to him right now? _However my internal cursing is cut short by the smell of food and the appearance of it. People dressed in crimson red carrying trays of goodies encircle the table, placing down dishes and pots. Pasta, balls of what looks like pork in a sticky red source, potatoes, bread, rice, beef stew with the most ripe plums and so much more. My mouth starts salivating as Phinley strolls in, eyes wide when he sees all the food. He places himself down next to me.

"Well, tuck in then." Mags hands the paper to one of the servants who nods and leaves the table as she does.

_Okay then Mags, I will tuck in. I would have tried everything by the time I finish eating tonight._

* * *

__  
_See you next week folks, reviews? :3  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh I did it. I kept my promise and ate a piece of everything spread across that table, and now, I regret it._

I wrench again, body convulsing and head spinning as the sweet red sauce and pork balls makes a reappearance. I choke and grasp tightly at the edge of the toilet seat, tears escaping my eyes.

_Oh yeah, I'm really regretting it. _

My breath is ragged and I can hear whimpers escaping my quivering lips. Last time I was sick it was the first day I went fishing with my dad. Being so used to flat land the turbulent sea and rocking deck made my head spin and cough up everything I had had for breakfast that morning. After that I got used to the rock of the waves, even found it comforting. But this is no unfamiliar ground or the inertia of the train. This is me being a pig and literally shoving everything into my mouth over dinner. And now I'm paying for it.

My body spasms as the food reappears, my gagging sounds interrupted by a light tap at the door. His voice is soft and unexpected, at least this late at night anyway. Until I remember why he's here with me.

"Are you okay Annie?"

"Yeah... absolutely dand-" As I speak the creamy chocolate dessert decides it is it's turn to bother me and cuts me short of my sentence. After, I place my head against the seat, wailing sleepily. I sound like a wounded animal, feel like one too. Sharp pains shot through my stomach. I hardly realize when his hand rubs up and down my back, his body next to mine and his fingers pushing strands of hair, that fell loose of my braid when I made my dash for the bathroom, out of my eyes.

"You look terrible."

"Thanks..." I reply, laughing slightly and opening my eyes just enough to see his shadowed body. I know I probably do though. My head is beaded with sweat, trembling and I'm willing to bet I smell rancid.

"No, your so pale. And burning up."

"It's my fault..."

A frown comes across his face as he stares at me, me laughing softly. Slowly he lifts to his feet and fiddles with a few small bottles which are stored at the back of the sink. A small click indicates the small light at the top of the mirror has been switched on, letting a dim light into the darkness. A few seconds later returning to my side and handing me a single, yellow pill.

"Here, it'll help cool you down."

Slowly, fingers trembling, I take the pill and pop it in my dry mouth. It slides down my throat, catching now and then making me cough, but finally it's down.

"There we go sweetie, finished bringing up dinner yet?"

"Shut up Fin-" I laugh, closing my eyes again and placing my head back onto the seat. It's cold and I can feel myself drifting off. My stomach is settling and I can feel myself cooling down.

Slowly I pull myself up and close the lid on the toilet seat, pressing the button which flushes it. Turning I try and step forward, Finnick is by my side, but I push him away, determined to show that I am strong. Prove I'm more than a little girl.

When I reach the sink the light that Finnick had turned on lights up my face. Pale, dark rings under my eyes and a dribble of sick on my chin. Grabbing a flannel I wet it and wash my face, Finnick has a towel in his hands when I turn to reach for it and dabs my face dry. I close my eyes and allow him to help.

A funny tingle starts in my stomach and my ears burn. I can't be sick now, not now. But it's not a sick feeling. it's an odd spreading warmness.

When I open my eyes I am met with his deep green ones, shimmering and sweet. I gulp and watch his every movement and as he takes the flannel from my hands and dries them. Leaning across the basin he turns the light off and flashes me a smile.

Shaking my head back to reality I stop the fatigue creeping up on me. I fumble in the darkness and met his hand, warm, which clasps mine and leads me through the darkness and back to my bed. Me lagging behind yawning and rubbing my eyes, like I'm a child again. When my legs clap against the edge of the bed I flop forward and groan into the soft covers, drowning in their velvet feel.

"It may help getting under the covers?" He laughs, I can hear a smile in his voice.

"Ohh, shut up." I giggle sleepily. I feel his arms lifting my legs and turning me so I am on the bed before pulling the covers up till they are on the shoulders. I smile and breath in, pulling them higher to my chin and snuggling down in to the mattress. I can feel his fingers through my hair, soft and pulling out my braid so it all falls and lays behind my head.

"Thanks Fin..." I yawn, open my eyes long enough to see a smile in his face and his lips form the words,

"Any time Annie."

Slowly my eyes begin to close and the last things I register are a soft brushing of figures over my cut followed my cut followed by a small tingling, quiet thuds and a click as my room door opens and closes.


	5. Chapter 5

**To anyone who has been following the story- forget about every Tuesday at 7pm, I'm gonna be spontaneous, yaay!**

* * *

I awake to the soft rumble of the train, the one you can only hear if you sit in complete silence. A purr and small clacks. Soft sunlight illuminates the floor and bed covers. Snuggling down further into the warm, velvet covers, which are wrapped around my body keeping me warm. Brushing my feet against each other I stare into space, before finally looking up at the clock. It's half past seven. I suddenly stretch, arms in the sky and yawning while closing my eyes tightly shut. For a few moments I just lay there, warm and smiling. Breathing in deeply I expect the salty air I have become so accustomed to, only there is no sweet salty air to remind me of home.

Straining my stomach I sit up and rub my hands down my face. Slowly my eyes unblur and the room comes into focus, the pinky glow falling through the windows. The clothes I was wearing yesterday evening are neatly folded on the chair by the cupboard. Next to it hangs my reaping dress, uncreased and whiter than it has ever been. I feel my brow knit together as I stare at the clothes, I have_ never_ in my life folded anything that neatly, nor do I remember folding my clothes. Pushing back the bed covers my legs catch a chill, looking down I blink twice and my jaw drops slightly. I don't remember ever only wearing underwear to bed either. What _have t_hese Capitol people done to me?

Sliding out of bed, my toes skim the deep, luxurious carpet and I close my eyes. Breathing in deeply I suddenly smell a rancid ordure and begin to gag.

_What is that stench? _

Jumping off of the bed I slink around the room smelling each individual piece of furniture, starting with the carpets which smell beautifully of cherries. Moving on I find each piece of furniture, surprisingly, has a exquisite smell to it. The chair and cupboard a burnt oak and cinnamon. The curtains of roses and my clothes a fresh cut grass smell. Leaning back against the wall I look around, still unable to find the source of the sickly ordure. After a minute or two I finally give up racking my brains over the stench and decide I must be imagining it... until I place my head on my knee's. The sick, sticky pork balls smell is me. Why on _earth_ would I smell like sick and sticky po-...

Suddenly the events of the previous night form in my head and I remember the fact I rose late that morning and got shouted at, the reaping bowl and my name. Cookies and the train. The dinner spread before me on the table last night. How I had stuffed my face and when I got back to my room and soon after vomited my dinner back up into early morning. How my wrenching and chokes woke a sleeping Finnick who merely came to see if I was alright and ended up staying with me through the rest of my wrenching.

My ears suddenly begin to burn and I can feel my eyes watering under their closed lids.

S_hit!_

An emotion I was unable to feel last night, in between my vomiting and gasps for air, now forms in my mind. The pit of my stomach. And I'm pretty sure I am furiously crimson. Embarrassment.

I hated people, even my own family, seeing me sick. I never expected Finnick Odair- the sex icon of District 4, the man so many women lust over, the amazing green eyed man who wins peoples hearts by the flutter of his eyelashes- heard, seen and, from what I can tell, probably left smelling of my sick.

_Great... absolutely marvelous._

Pulling my head up and hitting it against the wall behind me I breath out before pushing myself up with the wall. Slowly, I drag my feet into the bathroom. My heart sinking as I do. Why am I even so bothered over this? He's just Finnick Odair. Hell, what am I saying? He's not_ just_ Finnick Odair, he's _the _Finnick Odair_._

Pushing my thoughts aside I look up and spot a note laying on the counter, just below the mirror. Curiously I extend my hand a pick up the paper and unfold it, to reveal clearly printed black letters. For a second I am taken aback at how simple this note it. No curls or swirls, glitter and colour. Not 'Capitol like' at all.

'I was informed you don't understand the shower controls, I thought this may help you.'

Under the words was a picture of the panel I had fought with yesterday and the buttons uses. Turning the note in my hands I looked for who it was from, but found nothing. Frowning and shrugging it away I pull off my clothes and step into the shower, confident that this fight, at least, I am sure to win.

The water is warm and soothing and I am almost upset to turn the shower off. But I do, and stepping carefully out of the shower I find myself looking for this magical button Mags had told me about at the table yesterday. When I spot it without really thinking I press it, a warm tingle starts on my skin and within a matter of minutes I am dry. Hair included and looking better than it ever has.

Pulling on a milky, nude robe that I find hanging at the back of the bathroom door, (miraculously- yet I do believe not coincidentally- my size) I stare into the large mirror on the wall above the sink. For a moment all my worries have seemed to melt away. About Finnick and the Games. For a moment, right here and right now, I am content.

Breathing in deeply I lean closer to the mirror, inspecting my face over when, at the base of my nose, I see a very thin white line in the space of where my hideous, crescent shaped cut had been just a day ago. Lifting my finger tips to it, I trace the scar.

Suddenly, my mind flickers back to the sound of a tin, the cool dabbing and slurred words about medicine and cream. The lotion Finnick had put on my cut last night. It must have healed it, and at an exponential rate.

If only all districts had this, I can hear the voice in my head ring out in glee. My parents scares from net making and fishing. The cuts and scraps people back home acquire. The burns I hear the men in 12 suffer from mine accidents, or the whipping that I have heard rumors of in the far out Districts. But then again, why wouldn't they already if they were going to? They aren't going to get it, the Capitol would be giving the Districts to much power and, no matter how many lives it would save, it wont give power to the slaves at it's feet.

Pushing away from the mirror I brush my teeth before wandering into my room and changing into another simple top and shorts. Slipping on the sandals I had worn on the day of the reaping I feel closer to home, then I snap out of my dreaming and just slink out of my room.

_If I'm not getting home, what's the point of reminding myself of it? I'll upset myself. _

Momentarily I am shocked by how cold and heartless I sound, how hopeless I sound. But I push the thought aside and breath in deeply trying to clear my head.

When I reach the table I am alone apart from Helga, who is sitting in another neon coloured, strangely patterned outfit. Her lips are golden and there are butterflies on her eyelashes. For a moment I am entranced by how they fly and flutter ever time she blinks, by how beautiful she would look if she just wore normal clothes.

"Nice sleep Anelia?" She chirps in her ever annoying Capitol voice.

"Annie..." I frown and she stares up from the mirror she is holding to look at me.

"Oh yes, it is isn't it!' She laughs and clasps her compact shut, 'How silly of me! My question still stands... _Annie_." She winks at me and her smiles happily.

"No, not really."

"Oh... well the Capitol beds are a lot nicer than these hay stacks! Trust me, just be thankful you weren't born in 10. I was once their escort, oh! The train beds, my back ached for weeks!" She half screeches her sentence and all I can feel is a deep hatred for this woman. The bed is softer than any I have slept on in my life, it was their food that did it.

"No matter what district I'm born in, I will live a, _'more back aching' _life than you ever will. There's no soft beds where I come from, so I don't think a bad back will kill me now... hell that's the Capitol's job!" I half shout. I can feel my checks are red hot and my eye is twitching. After a second I calm down enough to feel a tinge of guilt creep up from somewhere in the pit of my stomach as I see Helga's face. I'm sure she was only being friendly and I just practically accused her of my inevitable death.

Her eyes quickly flicker from mine and down to the table grain. After a minute she clears her throat and gets to her feet.

"I'm going to request the time till we get there, we have a busy, busy day ahead of us after all.' She gives me a weak smile and walks towards the door, my eyes following her as she does.'Sorry if I... offended you Annie." She leaves the room and now It's my turn to stare down at the table grain. The only Capitol person I have ever met, and she seemed nice. Clueless... well, like she almost understood something- and I accuse her for all the Capitol's misdoings. I have seen many Capitol women on the taverns television or aimlessly wandering around my district before; old and young, all with wigs and dyed skin, compared to them Helga seems... _normal. _

I hit my head on the table and groan to myself. Why did I even bother climbing out of bed this morning? Why didn't I just let my bed swallow me up away from the train, the Capitol and all of, well, _this._

After a minute I hear someone enter the room humming before an abrupt silence. They must have seen me.

"Go away..." I mutter like a tired, moody child. Then again, isn't that what I am? I breath heavily and turn my head to the side, straining my ears to hear them leave. But they don't, instead I hear a step closer towards me and then they stop again.

"Go away!"

There's another few steps towards me before stopping again. Replacing my guilt, anger seems to now swell up in me. Sitting up abruptly I slam my now clenched fists against the table and grab the blade of a cheese knife that sits in front of me.

"I said!' I shout, turning and throwing a knife in the direction of the person behind me, 'Go away!"

There's a sharp thud before I snap out of my mood and suddenly realize what I have just done. I have let an anger swell inside of me and, as a result, thrown a knife. Carelessly, stupidly.

Quickly whipping my head around I spy Finnick, the shoulder of his top held up by a knife and an odd expression plastered across his face. I feel warm, salty tears well up in my eyes and my hands are shaking.

"Stab me through the heart why don't you." Finnick's voice isn't angry, or spiteful. More... amused. Impressed. He puts a hand over his heart as he speaks and the corners of his lips are twitched upwards.

_What's he... why... why is he smiling? Laughing?_

Finnick begins to laugh lightly. Getting to my feet I storm towards him and grab the handle of the knife from his shirt. I can feel my ears burning and my cheeks slightly wet.

"Why are you laughing you stupid man!"

"You... you're, you're-"

"What?"

Finnick is smiling widely now. His sea green eyes piercing through mine. Quickly I pull the knife from his top letting it slack and my muscles loosening slightly at the sight of no blood. I hadn't hurt him. After a minute he stops laughing and sighs.

"You."

"What do you mean?" I can feel my brow knit together and I step back a few steps.

"You threw that knife so, well, you almost killed me!" I lower my head and slowly back away to the table. The back of my knees hit the chair and I fall backwards onto the chair.

"Sorry..." I mumble. His smile suddenly disappears and his eyes widen. He quickly runs towards me and holds my hands. Breathing in I consider recoiling at his touch, but I hold my hands still.

"Don't be Annie, It's amazing. You have a weapon... you have a _knife_!' My mind goes blank and I just stare into his eyes. They gleam and shine in the passing train light. 'I mean you ruined my favorite top but you, well, yes."

I giggle slightly and he wipes the tears that must have escaped my welled eyes. After a second or two It suddenly appears to me that his hand is still on my cheek. He looks down and slips his hand off of my cheek. At some point he must have fallen on his knee as well because now he is pushing himself up. My gaze follows him as he stands and looks down at me.

A click suddenly awakes me from my daze and I quickly swivel my chair to face the table as a rather tired looking Phinley storms into the room, ready to rip someone's head off if they make to much noise.

* * *

**"Stab me through the heart why don't you.", I liked that bit ^-^ **

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Enjoy**

* * *

The room I have been left in is cold, chrome and daunting. Over the past hours I had been waxed till almost not hair remained on my body; No hair. Arms, legs, underarms, even my eyebrows. Before being covered and coated in odd smelling ointments and oils and washed down twice.  
Then I was ushered into a room and for another hour my prep team, Flavia, Marco and Mellisa chirped happily about birthday parties and feathers while making me 'beautiful'. Now, they had made me up, beamed at my new face, skin, hair and nails and left me in a new, smaller room for my stylist.  
Playing with my hands which sit in my lap I feel the soft, silky coloured coat over my nails. Their now a striking gold, much like the colour of Helga's hair. All of a sudden I long for the train again, maybe I could just ride around in circles going back and forth until the games are over, then simply get off at the train station and run home. Run back to the parents who came to say goodbye with puffy eyes. Run back to my house, my room, my bed. My spot on the beach.  
All of a sudden my blissful thoughts are shattered by the gravelly voice of someone I had not noticed even enter the room.  
"Stand up so I can see you."  
My head shots up and I am met with one of the scariest looking people I have ever seen- even for Capitol standards.  
Her face is covered in black and gold stripes, and her nose is almost flat, causing her to have the appearance much like a tiger. Slipping of the side of the bench I have been sitting on I slip of my paper robe and stand eyeing the floor. I knew that I would have to remove my robe again sooner or later, but the feeling of unease and the twang of self consciousness returns once more.  
The woman almost stalks around me, her action much like that of a cats and her tawny eyes looking over every part of me. When she finally informs me I can put my robe back on I breath a sigh of relief and sit back on the bench.  
"My name is Tigris, I'm you stylist and you are very lucky."  
"Why?" I ask, furrowing my brow at the implication that I am remotely lucky being here, in the Capitol and part of these games.  
"Because this is my last year as a stylist... personally without me you tribute wont have a chance. So be lucky you have me as your designer."  
My mouth hangs open at her comment. The compulsion to dig up all of the anger I had pushed away this morning, plus the fury staking up from being pushed, prodded and waxed from pillar to post, is only subsided by the instruction Finnick had given me before I was dragged away from the train.

_Don't complain or fight, just let them get on with their jobs and you get on with yours. _

Closing my mouth I simply force a small smile to my lips.  
"I am very lucky then."  
The women simply nods at me, a smirk on her lips. I watch as she turns on her heels and strides over to the corner of the room. Picking up an outfit bag and a box from off of a chair I had not noticed she turns towards me, making her way back to my bench.  
"I like you girl.' Placing the box down next to me she raises the outfit bag in front of me and smiles warmly. 'You deserve this look- Queen of the sea."  
Slowly she unzips the bag, revealing a long, flowing green dress, with flickers of blue and gold across the floor length skirt. I breath in sharply and can feel a real smile creep across my lips.  
"It's amazing."  
"Want to put it on then?"  
I nod vigorously and once again slide off of the bench, my bare feet touching the cold, chrome floor and sending shivers up my spine. Reluctantly I remove my robe again before allowing Tigris to help me into the dress. The skirt brushes the floor and I frown at its length. What if the skirt gets caught in the chariots wheels and I'm dragged off?  
However pulling off the lid of the box Tigris had placed next to me she reveals a pair of very high, strap gold heels, matching the colour of my nails and flickers in the ruffled skirt. Slipping them on I find my balance.  
"Now, do you want to see yourself?"  
"Yes." I whisper, she nods and puts her hand out to me so she can help me over to her, make it easier for me to walk in these heels. Holding her hand she helps me over to face a section in the wall which is covered in a thin, red cloth. Underneath it a mirror sits.  
"Close you eyes."  
I comply and close them. Suddenly I am thrown back in time, I feel like a child again. Afraid of what I will look like, just like I did when I was younger when I went to someone's birthday party. _What if I look terrible? My make up is crazy and the dress doesn't suit me? What if they don't like me ?  
_On the train Finnick had explained to both me and Phinley about sponsors. How they can mean life and death for tributes, how it is essential they like you. I stand for what feels like hours, waiting almost impatiently to open my eyes. Finally Tigris informs me I am allowed to and, after another second of contemplating if I should or should not, I open them.  
For a moment I am frozen at the person that is in front of me. The me they have turned me in to. And she looks gorgeous.  
Upon a better view of the dress I can now see how amazing it actually is. The green, blue and gold merges together to form the effect of scales, moving and dancing with every move I make. The front of my dress creeping up and laying just under my collar bone, curving like sea weed across my pale skin. My hair has been allowed to stay down, flowing like a waterfall across my shoulders. My lips and eye shadow are the same gold as my nails and shoes, the imprint of coral erupting from the corner of my eye and across to my temple.

I catch my breath. I look like a mermaid; Queen of the sea.

"Thank you..." I whisper, tears welling in my eyes.

"Don't cry now girlie, you don't want to ruin your make up with tears until after your chariot ride."

The journey down into the depths of the building is daunting. My initial exhilaration has slowly dwindled away since I stepped into the lift. What if I really aren't as beautiful as I believed?  
When the lift opens Tigris pushes me out and walks out herself after me.  
"Remember, elegance Annie. You want them to love you. I've done half the work, you do the rest."  
"O-okay." I stutter out and stare at her, smiling slightly.  
"Good girlie, now go. I think your mentor is waiting." She informs me, staring over my shoulder. Shyly I look over my shoulder and see Finnick stroking one of the snow white horses attracted to my chariot. I look back to Tigris and nod, she smiles and I turn around, finding my balance and slowly walking towards Finnick.  
_Elegance Annie. Elegance. _

Breathing in raise my head and push my chest out slightly. Gliding across the floor I get a few side ways glances from some of the few other tributes who have already arrived. The male tributes from 1, 7, 8 and 11 are staring at me, either in surprised or some kind of... _lust? _The female tribute from 1 raises her nose and turns on her heels, her angelic skirt flowing behind her. The girl from 7 merely raises her eyes brows and I can see people whispering and throwing me dirty looks before turning back to their mentors._  
Maybe I am making the impression Tigris hoped for?  
_As I approach the chariot Finnick looks sideways and back again, before his head snaps back at the sight of me... I think I blush slightly as I reach him and he straightens up from his leaning position my the horse.  
"Sugar cube?" He asks in a low, seductive voice, turning a single sugar cube in his figures.  
"I don't need sugar to make me any sweeter." I throw back in a similar tone. My eyes widen at what I just said, my heart twisting slightly. Looking up at Finnick his cheeks are slightly pink and his eyes are dark green and sparkling.  
"No you defiantly don't.' He replies smiling, popping the sugar cube into his mouth. 'You look amazing."  
"Thanks." I say looking down at the floor. After a second I feel Finnick's hand on my shoulder. 'Smile, wave and be exactly who you were when you first saw the Capitol. They'll love you. I know they will already." I smile and nod.  
"Okay."

He removed his hand and straightens up, looking over my shoulder and nodding.  
"Mags."  
I turn to find Mags and Phinley walking towards us. Phinley is in a wrap which is over his shoulder and falls to his knee's which is the same green with flecks of gold and blue as me. In his hand is a gold trident and he has similar patterns across his eyes much like mine. His eyes widen at the sight of me before resuming their usual glare.  
"Ready?" Mags asks In a kind voice. Both me and Phinley nod and are helped up onto the chariot. Finnick gives me one last smile and thumbs up before the music begins to play.

"Good luck!" Mags smiles as they walk away to take their seats.  
The large doors in front of me open and I watch as the tributes from 1 role out. They are always the favorites. But I don't care, I look stunning. As I watch the tributes from 2 and 3 leave quickly, and faster than I thought it would come, it's now mine and Phinley's turn to roll into view.

Taking a deep breath I plaster a smile across my face and begin waving out to the crowds. The moment our chariot leaves the doors there is an eruption of screams. Not the biggest cheer, that belonged to 1, but better than both 2 and 3.

Releasing my breath I smile wider and begin blowing kisses to the crowd, barely aware of Phinley beside me any more.  
"And look at the tributes from 4! That trident- That tribute, Annie Cresta. She's a beauty to look out for!" I smile at Ceaser Flickerman's words about me before continuing smiling and waving. With every blown kiss I feel my confidence slowly rise.

After 20 minutes my chariot reaches the city circle and we come to a stop. President Snow climbs to his podium and gives the speech he gives every year, about the districts and how every year 24 tributes are taken from each district to show that the Capitol is in charge, that they always will be. As a deterrent to the districts after the dark days, a warning to never rebel again.

After his speech we circle once more before entering the doors and demounting the chariot. I'm buzzing and my heart is pumping so hard I'm barley aware I am being ushered into a lift by Helga, who had been waiting for both me and Phinley.  
I watch as the floors count up until we leave the lift at 4, I'm vaguely aware of Helga explaining how each districts tributes inhabit the same number floor of their district. Upon leaving I merely wander over to the room that has been assigned to me and take a long, warm shower.


	7. Chapter 7

**This has been my favorite chapter to write so far! I hope my non existent readers like it to! **

**Enjoy**

* * *

Wandering out of the bathroom, my body freshly clean of all the make up they caked on me earlier I am now met with the place I will be staying in. The room is huge, bigger than my house back home. It's the first real look I had gotten at the room without being tired, rushed to dress and eat or blinded with water.  
On one wall is a large beach wardrobe, only centimeters from grazing the ceiling, what kind of strange clothes could capitol people possibly own to make them need a wardrobe that tall? Next to it stands a chests of drawers. A large mirror is placed on it along with a remote (which I had no intention of going near after my shower incident) and a sliver set brush which gleamed in the moon light and the lights coming through the window that overlooked the capitol. In the center of the room against the wall is a large king sized bed covered in deep crimson, velvet covers. Deep crimson. How I watched many sunsets back in 4 before, but only one with that colour streaks streaming through the sky as the sun escaped the bounds of my home and into a new world. That was the sweetest, yet foggiest memory I can recall.  
It was when I was 14, I was dreading the reaping so badly. Every year standing up and waiting to hear your name being called and you being lead to your death which those capitol people smoother in make up, odd facial changes and bizarre clothing to hide the blood shed and the fact that 23 young people have been murdered. Even when your name isn't called you feel remorse for those who have been, some only their first year, others their last. What's worse I remember wondering, beginners misfortune or the knowledge that perhaps in less than a month you would never have to fear being reaped again, but here you are, on stage so close to freedom but still a stones throw away?

The sun was slowly sinking in the sky and as it did rain drops began to patter against the water and my skin. I would normally be here with my friend, Mary, but she was reaped last year. Only a year older than me, killed with a single arrow right between her unusually dark eyes, (chocolate brown, they were darker than anyone else's eyes I had ever seen, well anyone from district 4 at least), died before she knew what hit her. I missed her a lot then. I still do now sometimes.

I had picked a bunch of clear blue forget-me-nots, they were growing on the line where grass meets sand. They were small and delicate, sweet smelling and seemed to have relevance to how I felt. So picked all but one. On my way home in the now darkening sky I caught a figure out the corner of my eye. He was tall, but that's all I knew, for he was a silhouette. Tall and that he had been standing watching me from a near by section of beach. As I stared back at him, soaked to the bone through my cotton white shirt and shorts, a strand of wet hair across my face and a handful of forget-me- nots that's when I saw them. The streaks of crimson red lines across the sky emanating from the far off sun setting behind the tall mountings which signified an end to our district.

It was mesmerizing, my eyes only left him for a second, but when I looked back he had gone. I was left to walk home wet and thinking of who this boy was, was it my imagination? A dream? But it felt so real.  
To this day I still think of this boy, more than the painful memories of Mary, or the beach which I love so much, white sand and sea, often the consuming thought of my name being called. All blown away by the mysterious boy.  
Silly to fall for a person who may not even be real, but I swear I did not dream a quick reflection of red light off of his magnificent sea green eyes, or the odd feeling of knowing them. Funny how I only realized this after I was reaped. But I guess that's my life already flashing before my eyes.

I pull off my clothes and find a silk nightgown in the drawer in a soft olive green. Slowly I brush out my hair and let the curls fall on my shoulders.  
As I yawn a knock drums on the door, slowly I rise and step on the balls of my feet across the room, (something I often do when I'm tired), and open the door. I'm blown a back for a second at who had been knocking, then I remember my predicament with being a tribute and that Finnick Odair is standing my my door way starring at me in my bed clothes because he is my mentor in these games, not because he wants to be here.  
"Good evening." I say in the strangest voice I can force from myself without screaming at him because of his amazing looks and well known charm.  
"Hey Annie,' his speech seems almost to laid back. This also shocks me but I carry on listening to his sweet voice. 'Me and Mags were just talking about you and Phinley. We decided that tomorrow morning Mags will coach him and I will coach you. So get some rest, we're up early."  
Wow... Finnick Odair has come to tell me to go to sleep because I have a big day ahead of me with him. What could he possibly do with me to make me to make me in need of a good nights sleep? At realizing what I had just asked myself I let out a giggle and blushed. His face turns slightly quizzical as to what I am giggling at but he just smiles back and pats my nose with a single finger.  
"Night cheeky." he says before leaving the doorway of my room behind.

Cheeky? Did he know what I thought? Worlds best looking man who has the body of a God, sweet, seductive (so I have heard), can be deadly enough wield his weapons and cut everything out of his path yet be loved and trusted by all... and can now read minds? Just my luck his telepathy kicked in now. But oh well, if I'm going to die, may as well go laughing I say to myself as I shut my door, walk to my bed on the balls of my feet and slip into between the crimson bed sheets. Makes my bed at home feel like a rock, and my district is one of the better off. I wonder how all the people in the outer districts live their lives, far away from the Capitol, worse off and starving. I wonder what my mother and father are thinking right now, my house usually filled with shouts right now, but their only child now miles away. Is there only silence? I let tears run down my face leaving a cold trail from my eyes to my ears I fall into sleep.

When I awake I am on my side, the sunlight has leaked in through the window and is dancing across the floor. The air is warm, much like the days are this time of year in 4. I lay still for several minutes in the silence then realize something is wrong. I'm not at home. So where am I?

That's when it all starts coming back to me. My white dress. The reaping. The train, Mags, Finnick and falling asleep in this bed so far from home.

My face drops and I push myself up to stare at the strange room I am in. It looks exactly how it did in the dark; strange high cupboard an all, I did wonder if it was just shadows that made it appear so tall, however it appears to actually be that height.

I slid my feet out of the side of my bed and stretched my arms into the air. Every bone in my back clicks sending a satisfying, awakening feeling through me. The clock which I didn't notice on the other side of the wall from me tells me it's 6.20. Still very early.

My feet touch the floor and I pad over to the bathroom, where I take off my clothes and step into the shower. This control pad looks a lot simpler than the one on the train, and in a matter of minutes the water is on, coating me in warmth and soaps and perfumes fill my nose with sweet scents. For a split second I feel as if I'm home on a warm autumn day, when the rain falls from the sky, the patter of it against the sea and the ships boobing on the waves. I lean my forehead against the cold metallic walls of the shower and close my eyes, trying to replicate the smell of the sea and fish I have come to love so much. I wonder if I will ever smell those things again. See my home.

Then I shake the thoughts from my mind, and straighten my back so my face is pointing forward.

I stand there for what feels like a further 10 minutes before I press a button which makes the water stop suddenly. In the Capitol Mags told me they have mats you can step onto which dry you in a matter of seconds, along with a variety of other contraptions and devices to make your life easier. However I decide to step out of the shower and avoid the mat, instead I reach for a towel the same green as my nightdress was, which hangs limply over a heated towel rack. What don't they have in the Capitol?

I dry my face of all the water droplets before I wrap it around me and secure it over my left breast. I walk over to a miraculously un-fogged mirror on the far wall. It should be dripping and making me look distorted through the condensed water, but it's as clear as crystal.

_Evidently mirrors which don't fog when you shower are more important to Capitol people than every district having food and water..._

"Vein bastards." I say to myself out loud as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I'm only 17, yet I have been brought to a strange place and will be made to die. Treated, fed and clothed better than I ever would have been back home in the space of a week compared to a life time, then slaughtered by another child as people watch for their entertainment. A lamb for slaughter. What sick people have we become?

I turn away from the mirror not wanting to think about my death any further and walk towards the door. All I really want to do now if sit and watch the Capitol wake up till I am called for training. Regardless of the savages these people are, the Capitol looks amazing; the architecture, the

waterfalls which line the far edges, the size and freedom.

Walking past the towel rack I grab a smaller, hand towel which is still warm from the rack and begin to rub my hair with it one handed, the other opening the door into my slightly chilly room compared to the steaming bathroom. I roughly dry my hair with the small towel before I drop it on the floor and whip my hair back. That's when I notice him.

Finnick is looking out across the Capitol on the opposite side of my bed, when I see him it takes a moment to register. He is standing in my room looking out a window and I am standing behind him dressed in nothing but a towel.

Realizing this is no school girl day dream I let out a small cry and step backwards, tripping over the towel I dropped, falling onto my back and letting out a yelp of pain. The towel, although still covering me, is barely clinging to my wet skin. My eyes are closed and head throbbing in pain. _Well_, I say to myself in my head, _my situation can't possibly get any worse_.

But of course I was getting myself into trouble believing that, because when I open my eyes Finnick Odair is standing over me. I'm half wet, half naked, and half dead. I must look so stupid, my ears begin to burn up and as quickly as I fell I try to sit up. Of course the pain in my head stops me before I can which leaves my head throbbing harder. I let out an agitated moan,

"What the hell are you doing in my room?!"

"I did knock,' his voice sounds calm, smooth which cools me slightly. "But when there was no reply I wondered if you were okay. I got worried, if you had hurt yourself or something had happened so came in."

_Is he showing actual concern for me?_

"Didn't you hear the shower running?" That's when I see something I have never seen Finnick Odair do, do. For a split second there is a crack in his cool and he blushes slightly before regaining himself.

"Well, I thought I would wait for you, to instruct you with your training. I assumed you would use the dryer instead of a towel, I heard Mags telling you about it."

"I didn't want to, it's to... Capitol." For a moment I just stare into Finnick's eyes which loom above me. They're so amazing, it'd be hard to miss their beauty on the television screen but in real life they are so much more. So calming. So entrancing. So familiar...

That's when I realize I am still laying virtually naked on my floor and that Finnick is leaning over me, staring into my eyes.

"Urm... Finnick?" I can feel my cheeks reddening, but my ears are no longer burning.

"Yeah?" his tone is slightly confused, which makes me giggle slightly.

"I need to get dressed." Like a light bulb has gone off in his head making him realize the position I am in, Finnick leans away to allow me to clasp the towel so it's now covering more of me and raise. However, as I do a streak of pain runs down my back and suddenly I feel extremely dizzy and as if I could vomit any minute. I think Finnick notices this because all of a sudden he has picked me up bridal style and has lifted me over and onto my bed. It's softness cushions my head and back.

I let out a sigh of relief and close my eyes.

"I'm going to go get you something for the pain. I'll be back in a second, okay?" His voice sounds worried and his steps slightly quicker than usual as he leaves the room.

It's nice just laying on this strange bed and letting it support my aching back. Maybe I'll just lay here forever. Eye's closed, soft fabric, no arena.

A few minutes later I hear Finnick return and I open my eyes. He has a thin glass filled with water in one hand and two tubs, (on small and thin, one bigger and deeper) in the other. He places the larger tub on the dresser and walks over, opening the longer tub, which appears to contain candy coloured pink tablets. He lifts one out and as he dose I stick out my tongue.

"You make a great patient." he says smiling and places it on my tongue and handing me the water, helping my up slightly I drink and swallow the tablet, which tastes of raspberries slightly.

"You'll begin to feel better in a few minutes."

"You promise?" I sound like I am six again, asking my father if he promises to be home from fishing on time for my birthday.

"I promise." Finnick coo's and smiles at me. He then takes the glass from me, helps me back down and walks back to the dresser. Replacing the larger tub with the smaller one and making his way back over. I sit up as he comes over, and am dumbstruck that I do without a throbbing pain or sudden pain. Only a small lulling ache.

"Told you."

"Yes you did. What's in the other tub?"

"It's for the ache and to stop bruising." Finnick is back by my side and has unscrewed the lid revealing a translucent, pea green cream. Perching himself on the edge of my bed he breaks the surface of the cream with his index and middle fingers, lifting some off. I stare at him intrigued and only realize that he is staring as intrigued back at me after a few moments.

"Turn around then." He smiles at me.

"What?"

"Well I need to rub it into your back. So... yeah." he scratches the back of his head with his non creamed hand and stares at me through a layer of bronze coloured hair.

"Oh.. okay." I giggle and blush slightly, although I have no idea why. I mean yes, he is amazingly sexy to say the least but he is only doing this because he is my mentor... or does he generally care? I slid around in the bed till I am facing the wall with the clock, it reads 7.40. still early. Then I once again realize how exposed I am and turn to him again.

"Finnick?"

"Yeah?"

"Close your eyes?"

"Why?"

"Please" I stare back at him, my hand still grasping the top of the towel and he just smiles after a second and closes his eyes. I wave my hand in front of his eyes of a few seconds just to make sure he isn't peeking, when I am totally satisfied he isn't I slip of the bed and run to the dresser. I slide open the first draw I come to containing underwear and pick out the first pair I come across and slip them on. I also take out a bra and sock. With my hand still holding the towel I shut the drawer and skip back to the bed. I slip back on and once again face the wall.

"Okay, you can look now." I let go of my towel as I say this and let it drop around me. Now I am only sitting in a white pair of boxer knickers, back aching and one Finnick Odair behind me.

_My imagination or did he just catch his breath?_

Suddenly a warm pair of hands make their way up my spine to my shoulders and back down again. Finnick is rubbing in the pea green cream and as he does the dull ache is subsided by a warm tingle. "Better?" Finnick asks as his hands trace my spine again.

"Yeah." I smile stupidly knowing he can't see me, my hair still damp and clinging to the front of my shoulders.

"Annie?"

"Yeah?"

"You need to be careful in training today. It's first impressions. So they count, life and death count. Avoid things you are good at, like the knives, avoid them. Learn new things. Do you understand me?"

His words are decisive and all I do is nod and say,

"I understand."

I sit for a further 10 minutes letting Finnick traces my spine before the pain is completely gone. With every stroke of his hand a funny feeling stirs inside of me. Finally his hands stop and rest on my hips. It's 8 o'clock.

"Breakfast?" Finnick asks. His hands and fingers on my bare skin is very distracting but I find my words.

"Yeah okay." I reach to my side and pick up the bra, I slip it on and do the clasp up, Finnick's hands still on my waist as I then put on my socks. Finally he releases me when I stand up and turn around to look at him. His eyes are fixated on my now dry body, his head slightly turned at an angle. I feel warm inside suddenly, wonder if Finnick realizes he is staring at me. Unsure how to point it out to him without embarrassing him, _would it embarrass him?,_ I walk over to my wardrobe and open it. That's why it's so big!

Half is filled with shoes alone, the other with clothes. I dig through my wardrobe till I find an outfit with a large '4' printed across the back in a sea blue on it's black fabric. That's when I turn to Finnick again. He has gotten up and I staring at me.

"See you at breakfast in a minute?" he has seemed to regain himself now.

"Yep."

He turns and starts to head for the door, suddenly he stops and looks back at me.

"Hey Annie, wanna know a secret?' he laughs, his voice suddenly drops into a jokily seductive tone and his eyes penetrate mine with their green glow 'I don't use the dryer either, I stay dripping wet and in a towel to, it's more... well, I'll let you put a word there." With that he winks at me. Before he leaves the room I coo to him, in the best imitation seductive tone I can muster and at the same time striking the stupidest seductive pose,

"Cheeky." When he stops and looks back at me from across the room I wink at him and giggle. His smile is huge, that's the last thing I see of him before he slips out of my room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Enjoy  
**

* * *

I decide to eat a lighter breakfast than the last meal I had eaten on the train. I have never not had a meal, although my portions at home are very small; coming from one of the poorer sides of the district my parent's could never afford much. But I never complained and we always get by. On the train I gorged myself, fresh warm bread, stew, balls of beef in a sweet red sauce. Of course the repercussions of my actions resulted in me loosing all I had eaten later that day.

As I tuck into I warm slice of bread I stare at Finnick, who is only in blue pajama trousers, from across the table, only to see is eyes flicker away from me. He shove a large slice of sausage in his mouth and traces the wood grain across the table with his finger.

"So Finnick, what should I do today? When I go down for training."

"You need to hide your strengths, you don't want your opponents to know them. Not even Phinley. Stick to things your not good at or don't know about, get better at them." He answers me through half a mouth of sausage and still staring at the table.

"Okay... now do you mind swallowing the sausage and talking to me in English?" He looks up at me and smiles, gulping before speaking again.

"Better?"

"Much." I smile at him.

I pop the last piece of bread into my mouth before reaching for a pot of summer berries and grapes at the other end of the table. My arm's are to short to reach that far however. Obviously Finnick notices this because he picks up the pot and pulls it further away from me towards him, giggling.

"Hey!" I stare at him angrily through a layer of hair.

"Oh sorry, did you want something?"

I sit back in my chair and stare at him as he pulls a cheeky grin. My arms crossed and trying to pull the most unimpressed look I can muster, but I can feel a smile fighting it's way onto my face. For a minute we just stare at each other. Even in the morning with his messy hair curling in random directions he still looks amazing.

Then slowly he picks up a grape from the pot and throws it up into the air, catching it in his mouth as it falls back to earth.

"Mmm, tasty." He winks at me. He's teasing me.

"Shut up. I want one."

"Ah ah ah, what's the magic word?" I sigh and stare at him. I feel like a child again, being forced to learn table manors and failing horribly at it.

"Please?"

"Hmm, say it sweeter." Finnick insists, eating the plumpest looking blackberry I have ever seen. I pull a face before fluttering my eye lashes and saying- in the sweetest voice I can conjure up-

"Pweeeeaase?"

"Hmm, that was awfully sweet, it suits you. However I still think the answer is no." To that he gets to his feet and puts more berries in his mouth, laughing.

"Hey!" I laugh, and get up, striding around the table towards him. But Finnick has anticipated my move and jogged around the other side of the table, to where I was sitting.

"Catch me if you can!"

"Finnick!"

"Oh fine!" he throws a strawberry at me which ping's off my check, leaving a soggy, pinky mark next to my nose. A grin grows across his face. Standing like this, a bowl of fruit clutched to his chest, messy hair and a cheeky smile he looks like a child. It's sweet. As I stare a funny feeling creeps into my stomach, but I push it away, because as much as I love him looking like that I want those berries.

Running for the clear section of table I jump onto it and slide across to the other side, landing my feet on the floor near Finnick with a thud. His face is shocked, although impressed at the same time. "Determined, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah." I reply running at him, but being a lot taller than me he lifts his hand with the bowl into the air. I jump for it.

Me and Finnick almost do a strange dance which ends with me tickling his unprotected ribs. He doubles over and as he does I grab the bowl from his hands.

"Thanks Fin!" I laugh, kissing him jokily on the cheek before picking up a raspberry and popping it in my mouth. It's juice escaping at my first bite and covering my tongue in it's sweet taste. A smile spreads across my face. Finnick's cat like eyes stare up at me through a layer of curly hair, his hands on his knee's, smiling.

"You like raspberries, don't you?"

"Yeah..' my voice sounds odd, as if a tad nostalgic but I just pick another from the bowl and turn it in my fingers, trying to hid the sudden change in my tone. 'Their sweet and taste nice."

Finnick straighten up and walks to me, twisting his head so his lips are a centimeter or so from mine and whispers,

"Like you then?" Before smiling at me and returning to his seat at the other side of the table. I lower my head and laugh silently, turning on my heels as I do to face him.

"I used to pick them along the woods near the far side of the beach where 4 ends. Me and my friend, It's beautiful there, just forest for miles, past the fence at least... After the 68th Games I didn't go back much. I haven't had one in ages, well before now."

I return to my seat and stare at Finnick. His face has lost it's smile and his words are soft and comforting,

"You knew Mary?' I nod. 'I was her mentor. She spoke about this strange girl she had befriended on the beach many years ago and not gotten rid of since." I laugh.

I had met Mary when I was 7. I had spent the whole day digging a whole in the sand, trying to find water, she had fallen into it while walking and after a few strange looks and remarks about me trying to dig for water on a beach we began talking. She helped me fill the hole as it got darker and we seemed to bump into each other at the beach around the same time every week. After a while we became friends, I had known her ever since.

"She always thought I was strange. The feeling was mutual... but she was my best friend and I miss her."

I look down at the table, unable to look at Finnick any more. I bury all my feelings of loss and doom back inside myself and breath heavily for a few minutes.

At the sound of a door shutting I look up to find Phinley walking across from his room, in an outfit much like mine. When he reaches the edge of the table he stares from me to Finnick.

"Where's Mag's?"

"She has other arrangements that need to be attended to. I offered to mentor both of you on how to act while in your training session today. She will be back by the time you have finished your training Phinley, no need to worry."

I watch as his eye's narrow and slowly he lowers himself into the chair next to me. I watch as he fills his plate with meat, bread and potatoes before starting eating. Unlike me I believe he holds down the food pretty well, then again, being from the richer end of the district it's no surprise. He has probably eaten a proper meal every day in his life. That would explain his full figure compared to my slightly hollowed cheeks. However as I sit wondering about this I decide not to complain. After seeing the poor district 12 children briefly during the chariot ride, hollowed cheeks, skin and bone with hungry eyes I come to the conclusion that me frowning upon the meals I would revive at home is ludicrous.

"So.' Finnick starts, clapping his hands together which makes me jump in my seat pulling me away from my thoughts. 'Let's lay down the ground rules for training today."

* * *

**Hello anyone who reads this story! Unfortunately, if you are a fan of 'I Don't Care If You're Broken', I am sorry to inform you that this will be the last chapter. I have put the story on hold until it gains more interest or I decide that I wan't to finish it regardless of the views it gets. **

**However, at the moment I am taking my GCSE's and I have decided not to waste my time on writing a story which aren't being read. **

**If you like it, I am sorry. If you want me to continue ask, however I can't say the time frame it will take to start writing this specific fan fiction again. **

**Bye for now on this story,**

**~Feathers**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello! Sorry it has taken so long to get this out, if you knew how much coursework I have had! But here it finally is! Hope you enjoy reading.**

**Chapter 9!**

* * *

Slumping onto the velvety soft covers of my bed, I moan into them loudly. My legs hanging over the side of the bed. Kicking off my shoes with my feet I allow my toes to scrape the floor as my hands are lazily thrown above my head. Layers of the hair which have escaped my bun are laying over my bare arms, tickling my skin.  
My limbs are numb. From the weapons I had learned to hold, dodging and training, failed attempts at firing arrows and instead wiping my arms with the bow strings and missing the center of the target by a meter. The careers, -tributes children from District 1 and 2 and sometimes mine, 4- all laughed at my efforts before throwing spears and flinging axes perfectly. The looks in their eyes were vicious, a cannibalistic glare that told me I most likely looked nothing more to them than a piece of meat that will keep them alive for a day or two.  
_I will never make it out of there alive.  
_Suddenly, a soft knocking at the door pulls me from my thoughts of peril, they'll be back again later though. When ever I close my eyes the may ways I could be slaughtered invade my dreams. The images of my parents crying at the television screen in the town square, the way they did when my cousin died, I was only very young at the time, but I remember the tears that stained their faces as they held my aunts shaking form in their arms. I never understood until those games that I would never see the people who left us again, the people we loved.  
The images of the future I will never have, the tributes who will follow me until time ends... Finnick...  
Another knock suddenly becomes apparent and I lift my face out of the sea of fabric for a moment to release a loud, incoherent groaning sound, before throwing my face back into the darkness. Soft footprints are the next things I hear, before the end of my bed lowers slightly at a weight on it.  
"Annie?' I moan again at Finnick's voice, unable to lift myself from the evil comfort of the Capitol covers. 'Come on Annie, it couldn't have gone that badly."  
"Rweally?"  
I mumble, still facing the covers. The only thing pulling me from my pity is Finnick's hand suddenly rubbing my back, the way he did when I was sick on the train. The embarrassment I felt that night causes my ears to burn even now. A fire is slowly building in the pit of my stomach for a reason my tired mind can't pull together, but whatever it is, it is forcing me to look up and straight into his amazing, green eyes. Right now, as they catch the light, they are the colour of spring leaves, alive and vibrant. The green that reflects off of the tree's and the fence at the edge of the district. Where I am not allowed to go.  
Maybe his eyes, now the colour of those leaves, aren't allowed for me to look into. Out of my reach. After all, he is only my mentor. But I guess, before I die, I am allowed this guilty little pleasure. For a moment I loose the reason I am laying on my bed with my head buried like an ostrich's in the sand in the first place. The only clear thought in my mind being Finnick's eyes.  
_You could drown in those eyes, and I would happily let myself... much nicer way to die than-_  
"There we go, there's that pretty face."  
I blush slightly, still looking up at him.  
"Stop it, Finnick."  
"Come on, what's wrong?"  
I sigh and give in as he flashes a smile with just the right amount of shyness and concern to make my head spin. How can he do this to me? What it so amazing and intoxicating about this man that I can spill everything. Not be able to look away from those eyes and miss his smile.  
"It was training.' I begin, pushing myself up until I am stilling crossed legged facing him. 'I failed today Finnick. I tried to light a fire and I failed, it wouldn't light. Even the youngest of children could light it! I couldn't light dry leaves with matches!"  
"Annie-"  
"The snares I could do, they were like making nets. But the plants... I have never even heard of half of the plants which they were talking about. I would have killed myself if the instructor hadn't of told me not to eat the berries I had picked up."  
"Ann-"  
"And the weapons, I couldn't even lift the ax-"  
"Annie!' Finnick suddenly raises his voice, Causing me to jump in my space before looking down at the bed covers, playing with the fabric between my fingers. When he speaks again his voice is much calmer, quieter. 'Don't write yourself off just yet, please."  
I must look like such a child, Phinley, as far as I am aware, has not just stepped off of the lift and without saying a word walked into my room and shut the door. I just wanted to shut the world out, and he came chasing after me. I blush at the thought, but face away so he doesn't see my cheeks turning pink. After a few moments of silence I find my words, small, but I find them.  
"I did what you said, I didn't show them I could use a knife."  
"And the knife is what will save your life.' Before I know what he is doing, he has leaned across the bed and embraced me in a tight, reassuring hug. For a second I am stunned, caught of guard by his sudden movement and tight grip on me, suddenly I feel myself melting into his touch. I fight with my thoughts of drowning in his eyes and melting against his skin as he breathes down my neck.  
_Why am I like this?  
_'You can't give up on yourself Annie. If you give up then there is no point to breathing, because you won't believe you will be once all this is over, you are handing them your life on a silver plate. Don't let them take it without a fight."  
"Okay."  
Is the only word that slips from my lips. Everyone fights for their lives in the arena, and non of them give up until they drop their weapons, till they have no breath to carry on running and heart to keep beating.  
I wonder, for a brief moment, who they are fighting for. What they are. Breathing out of my nose I close my eyes, I know who I am fighting for, what I will not give up to see again. For my family, my home, for the silly butterflies which erupt and fire that burns every time I see Finnick, the one that is taking over now.  
And for now, while in Finnick's arm and letting the butterflies take over, I know that I can't give up, that I will never give them my head.

* * *

**Sorry it is short, but I promise, the next chapter will be better and longer. I am back at school now so I am not sure how long it will take me to update, but my fan fictions are my second top priority (My GCSE's being my first) **

**So until next time :)**

**And don't forget, review!**


End file.
